


We Can Make It If We Take It Slow

by dev0n



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev0n/pseuds/dev0n
Summary: Chato's wife was never his soulmate. Waylon could never quite convince himself to believe his timer wasn't some cruel joke.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a weird ship me & my rp partner came up with after watching suicide squad. we have a habit of picking our respective favorites and forcing them into a ship together. i wrote a good half of this on the megabus in the middle of the night, so i apologize if it ain't that great. it's entirely possible i'll continue at some point, but it's also entirely possible i won't.
> 
> title from when you were young by the killers.

Chato's wife was never his soulmate.

They're 16 when they meet, and she doesn't have a timer. Chato doesn't ask. He figures she'll tell him in time. She does a few months later; it turns out her soulmate is dead. Chato's timer still has nine years on it. It doesn't take long for them to fall in love.

She refuses to marry him for a long time, even when Chato swears up and down that he'll never leave her, not even for his soulmate. When she finds out she's pregnant, she finally agrees. He's a good husband. For a while.

~~

Waylon is, quite frankly, not entirely convinced he really has a soulmate. But the ink is there on the softer, lighter flesh of his inner wrist. The numbers tick down steadily, and whenever he sees it, Waylon is human enough to pity his soulmate. He can't bring himself to believe anyone will ever really, truly want him.

At least there's never anyone else to worry about.

~~

When his wife and children die, Chato is overcome with grief. It doesn't strike him until much later what life in prison means for his soulmate situation.

There's no way it's going to be anyone but a prison guard, he realizes dully. As the days tick down, there's no excitement-- the only thing Chato feels is dread. It doesn't matter who his soulmate is. Even if the person wants to be together, Chato wouldn't do that to someone.

He sits in his watery prison and waits.

~~

Waylon's timer is down to less than twenty-four hours when he meets Rick Flag. There's a little relief then; perhaps a prison guard won't be his soulmate, after all. Perhaps another metahuman. Perhaps a metahuman who looks different, like Waylon...

But he quashes that hope before it can fully form. He tries not to think about it at all, really, which of course means it's all Waylon thinks of for the next four hours, seventeen minutes, and fifty-six seconds.

~~

In spite of himself, Chato's eyes are surreptitiously fixed to the numbers on his wrist as he's wheeled away from his prison against his wishes. Three minutes. Two. One.

He glances around at the faces around him, making brief eye contact with a few people. Though their eyes meet for half a second, Chato's too far away to notice how Waylon's expression changes when he realizes what, exactly, Chato had just been staring at.

~~

Chato asks Harley about her soulmate first (it's not, in fact, her "Mister J", though she insists they're meant to be; the timer on her wrist is still ticking down. She has less than a year left), in a roundabout and casual way. He doesnt count on Harley being as smart as she is, though, and it takes the blonde next to no time to realize just why he's asking. Once she catches on, Harley makes it her business to help Chato find out who his soulmate is. He doesn't object, as long as she promises not to tell anyone.

Chato's timer is intact after Slipknot's killed, and he breathes a sigh of relief. There was something particularly unsettling about him. Harley reveals that Boomerang's is still ticking, but both Deadshot and Croc refused to answer her question. She thinks Deadshot is particularly suspicious, she whispers, 'cause he was way too defensive, y'know what I mean?

Chato's eyes flicker to Deadshot, then to the near-silent anthropomorph. He's a little surprised to realize he'd prefer the latter over the former. Deadshot seems too hotheaded and angry, but Croc-- he's been just as calm and quiet as Chato this whole time.

He doesn't have too much time to think about it, though, because that's when the first of the Enchantress's soldiers is spotted.

~~

There's a moment before Waylon dives into the sewer in which he thinks about telling Chato sooner rather than later. There's a high chance one or both of them isn't making it out of this alive, after all. Their eyes meet for half a second and Waylon wonders if he might already know. Then he wonders if Chato would even want to know.

Waylon looks back at the water, takes a breath, and dives in headfirst.

Ten minutes later, the bomb goes off and Waylon sees Chato's singed, battered body drifting down through the debris-clouded water. He curses loudly (though it only comes out as bubbles) and swims after him.

~~

Chato has Incubus right where they need him, and he's made his peace. If he can sacrifice himself to do this one good thing, to save the world, then perhaps he can forgive himself for what he's done. The only regret he has is that he never got to meet his soulmate. Whoever they are, they deserved better. Chato hopes they understand why he had to do this.

The bomb goes off, and Chato's ears are ringing as the flames engulfing his body are extinguished by the water below him. The last thing he registers before he loses all consciousness is the feeling of strong, scaly arms wrapping around his waist and tugging him toward the surface.

~~

Waylon waits beside Chato's bed for three days and refuses to move, no matter how bone-deep exhausted he feels. Waller lets him, mostly because he'd saved the world and it's his only request.

(She already knows they're soulmates, anyway. Waylon's not sure how, but he's not surprised.)

Waylon is half asleep in his chair when he hears Chato stir and make a noise like he's trying to speak. He sits upright quickly, pulling his hand from the other's even as he leans forward slightly to squint at Chato's face. Chato's eyes flutter open and he blinks a few times, brow furrowed.

"Croc?" he asks, confusion clear even with the dryness of his throat.

"Waylon," the anthropomorph corrects gruffly. He doesn't address the unspoken question, just grabs a glass of water from the bedside table and holds the straw to Chato's mouth. It's a tender gesture, and a surprising one, if the look on Chato's face is any indication. He sips through the straw none the less, brow furrowed as he looks up at Waylon.

Chato pulls back and clears his throat a few seconds later. "What happened?" he asks. Waylon sets aside the cup and looks down at his folded hands.

"Bomb went off. Incubus blew up into bits, but you didn't. Prolly 'cause of the whole, uh." Croc lets out a short, throaty chuckle. "Flamin' Indian skeleton thing you didn't tell us about. Gotta say, 'm kinda sorry I missed that one."

"That's because it never happened before," Chato confesses. He goes quiet, seeming to consider something, and Waylon is content not to interrupt. Finally after a few minutes, Chato asks, "Why are you here? I'm glad you are, 's just... We ain't exactly been best buddies or nothin'."

Waylon pauses and shifts uncomfortably. Then he extends his arm to show Chato the series of zeros on the strangely smooth underside of his wrist.

Comprehension dawns on Chato's face and he looks up at Waylon with an uncertain expression.

"I saw you starin' at yours the same time mine hit zero," Waylon explains, avoiding Chato's eyes. "I ain't-- I ain't wrong, am I?" He starts to pull his arm back.

"No," Chato says hoarsely, catching Waylon's wrist. He clears his throat and shakes his head. Waylon's still not looking, but he glances up when Chato smooths his thumb over Waylon's timer a few times.

They're both quiet for a few minutes; Waylon would usually welcome the silence, but this time it just makes him anxious.

"I know I ain't--"

"You should know--"

Waylon and Chato start to speak at the same time, but both quickly cut off. Chato shoots Waylon an apologetic smile that he doesn't return (his teeth tend to frighten people).

"You first," Chato insists. Waylon grunts and looks away again.

"Well, uh. I know I ain't exactly the kinda guy most people'd choose for their soulmate. So if it bugs you that I look the way I do... You don't owe me nothin', you know? I was just--" He doesn't know exactly where he's going with that, and he's sort of relieved when Chato cuts him off.

"No! No." Chato shakes his head and squeezes Waylon's wrist. "That ain't it, man. It's just-- you heard me talkin' about my family before, yeah?" Waylon nods in acknowledgement. "I guess I'm just scared, you know?"

Waylon nods again, and they lapse into another thoughtful silence. He gets the feeling they're going to spend a lot of time in silence together if this whole soulmate thing actually works out. There are so many variables (not least of which is the fact that they're both technically imprisoned).

"I want," Chato starts, breaking the silence, "I want to know more about you. Talk to me." He reaches a shaking hand for the cup of water. It almost spills; Waylon quickly reaches out to steady him.

It means a lot that Chato doesn't flinch when he feels the texture of Waylon's skin. Instead, he just gives him a grateful look, carefully raising the straw to his lips.

"What d'you wanna know?" Waylon asks once Chato is done. The firestarter shrugs, returning the glass to the bedside table and resting back against his pillows again. He surprises Waylon by reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. Waylon can't quite suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he does.

"Everything."

Waylon finds it surprisingly easy to spill his life story to Chato. Chato's hand in his is grounding, and he's a good listener. When Waylon's done, his throat is raw from speaking more words than he thinks he has in years. Chato looks tired again, and Waylon tells him so.

"Mm. Maybe I'll take another nap. Gotta deal with Waller later." Chato sighs. "You gonna be here when I wake up?"

"You want me to be?" Waylon asks in return.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I do." Chato smiles tiredly, squeezing Waylon's hand. Waylon squeezes back.

"Then I will."

For the first time he can remember, Waylon allows himself to feel a glimmer of hope.


End file.
